


Man of her Dreams

by Measured_Words



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Heart-Felt Confessions, Post-Canon, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Jim's gone, the town is a shambles, and Barbara has her own life to put back together.





	Man of her Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts).



Jim was gone. Arcadia was in shambles. She had a magic rock filled with hundreds of homeless infants, stolen away to another realm and kept there for ages while their lives had been taken over by changelings. And she was meeting one of them, now trapped forever in his troll form, for coffee. Or something. Probably trolls couldn't actually drink coffee, and Walt had just been being polite. 

He arrived right on time, and he brought flowers. Very gentlemanly, but she wasn't about to forget his role, or roles, in everything that had transpired. He'd tried to kill her son. And even after he'd had his heel-turn, from what she understood, he's been pretty ruthless. And, he'd let an evil sorceress plunge the world into what was supposed to be eternal darkness, to be overtaken by the evilest trolls, just to save her life.

Mixed feelings on that one.

If she were being honest, mixed feelings on a lot of it, but she gave a strained smile and opened the door to let him into her house.

"Thanks – come in, please. We have a lot to talk about."

"Of course Barbara. I appreciate your invitation.

She found his troll form very difficult to read… but then she'd thought she'd known him before. Maybe it was better not to think she knew what was going on in his head.

"Do you actually want coffee? I've never been good at making it, but maybe that's good in this case."

"Thank you, but no. Readjusting to a troll palate has been an experience, though – I always much preferred human cuisine."

She nodded, reminding herself that, whatever else he'd done, he'd agreed to this change. He'd gone along with the plan to rescue all the Familiars. Or at least he'd not tried to stop them. It was a sacrifice, and she could respect that. "Well, if there is anything I can get you… Please let me know. I need to learn as much as I can about trolls, since my son is one now."

"Jim is in good hands," he said reassuringly. Walt took a step towards her and made to reach for her hands, but stopped himself.

"I know… But that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry about him. Or want to help him. No matter what he looks like, I'm still his mother."

"No one is in danger of forgetting that, Barbara. Least of all me." He smiled, or tried – there was nothing soft about him. "I see so much of you in him – your kindness, your devotion, your strength."

"Well. Thanks for saying so." She ushered him over the table. He was tall, but managed to seat himself without too much awkwardness. "Are you sure that I can't get you anything? Remember, I'm an ER doctor, and I've seen Jim eat half my silverware and my blender. I'm not easily shocked."

"If that's so…. Then perhaps the grounds from the coffee pot…" 

She watched him, trying to look dignified, and managed not to chuckle. Instead she gave him a sympathetic smile and turned to the kitchen. "It really bothers you, doesn’t it?"

He shrugged indifferently, his wings clasped around his shoulders like a cloak. "It's an adjustment. But changelings have always needed to be adaptable."

Barbara nodded, pulling out the coffee filter and putting it, after brief deliberation, on a plate. She poured herself a mug of coffee with a generous splash of cream, and brought both back to the table, still thinking about his word choice. 'Adaptable' was one way of putting it, but there were other words for someone with shifting alliances, or who would do whatever it took to accomplish their goals. They weren't all so charitable.

"Right. About that, Walt… I appreciate how helpful you've been, with the cradlestone, and everything else, but I wanted to ask you, well… what are your goals here?"

He looked down at the plate she'd set before him, the coffee filter folded as neatly as she could manage, and then back up into her eyes. "Frankly, Barbara, my goal is to keep you in my life. Or, no." He frowned, glancing away briefly before trying again. "I want to be someone you want to keep in your life. That's my goal. For now, I can help you with the Familiars, and I think we both know that this will be a complicated matter that will take some time to satisfactorily resolve. I hope it will provide me with ample opportunities to prove that my…intentions, are true."

She took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" He was surprised, and she didn't blame him.

"I think you still have a lot to prove, Walt. A lot of, hmm, adapting to do. There's some things that are going to be difficult to leave behind, but…" This time it was her turn to look away. "When I started remembering, in my paintings, it was me trying to sort out feelings. Some of the strongest images, or impressions, were of you, as it turned out. I felt angry, and afraid. Betrayed. But there were other feelings in there too and, if I'm being honest with myself, they're still there. I just don't know if I can trust them, like I don't know if I can trust you. But those are things I need to figure out, and I need you for that, and I need to learn what I can from you about trolls, and you're right. Working together will let us both work towards our goals."

"Barbara." His tone was as soft, as soft as she'd ever heard him be in this form. "You honour me with your honesty, and your trust. I will do my utmost to prove myself worthy of it."

"Good." She fidgeted with her cup. "I hope you can," she added, matching his softness. When Walt reached out to cover her hand with his, she allowed the stony touch to linger like the expanding silence before she slipped loose, tucking her hair back more firmly behind her ear. 

"So," he said, sitting up straight once more. "The cradlestone…"

Barbara nodded for him to continue. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake, but there was only one way to find out.


End file.
